


47 Days Since Case One

by AnExhaustedArmadillo



Series: Case One [12]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Amnesia, M/M, Survival, Suspense, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnExhaustedArmadillo/pseuds/AnExhaustedArmadillo
Summary: Luz and Toye make their way to Company.





	47 Days Since Case One

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Brief discussion of suicide.

He was in the apocalypse. There was an apocalypse. The world as they knew it was over. They were in the apocalypse. These are the things George told himself over and over again.

He didn’t remember the apocalypse happening. That wasn’t the only thing he didn’t remember, but it did seem like the most important. After some questioning, he and Joe had determined that George had lost about four years of his memory. Four years. George was still trying to wrap his head around that.

George didn’t remember Joe. Apparently they’d been roommates when the world went to shit. They’d been together ever since, for a while now. George had no option but to believe Joe, though he hadn’t had any reason _not_ to trust Joe.

In fact, Joe had been nothing short of overprotective since George woke up with four years of memory missing. He treated George like he was made of glass, like his head would shatter if Joe tried to remind him of too much. He never left George’s side, always ready to defend him. At first it had been kind of nice, since George was well and truly lost in the post apocalyptic reality. It got old quick, though. George thought Joe’s overprotective hovering was sweet, but it was stifling. So, when Joe suggested they head to a community, George had been more than eager, hoping that more people would let Joe relax around him.

There was supposed to be some community in southern New York. According to the signs, they had doctors, which was why Joe wanted to go. He hoped the doctor would be able to help George. George was doing his best not to get his hopes up.

“Hey,” Joe said, startling George away from his thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” George said, used to the question by now. “I’m okay. Just thinking.”

“Okay,” Joe said, and George let them walk on in relative silence for a moment.

“Joe,” He began. “I know I probably should’ve asked this a while ago, but what did I do before all this?”

“What did you do?” Joe asked.

“Yeah,” George began to elaborate. “Like, what was my life like?”

“Well,” Joe began slowly. “You were a broadcast engineer, which you really liked. You had a good group of friends. You loved video games, still, even though you were really bad at them.”

“Hey!” George interrupted, but he was smiling.

“You, uh, you were happy, George,” Joe said simply. “But then the world went to shit.”

“Did I… Was I with somebody?” George asked and Joe didn’t look at him when he answered.

“No,” Joe said simply. And, for the first time, George got the feeling that maybe Joe wasn’t telling him the complete truth.

***

Wood splintered as Joe broke the lock on the door. The house they broke into was untouched by the surrounding apocalypse, disregarding the thick layer of dust covering most, if not all of the surfaces in the house. George stayed close to Joe as they moved through the house.

The doors to the rooms upstairs were closed, but not locked. They creaked when George pushed them open.

“Careful,” Joe warned. “We don’t know what’s up here.”

George managed not to roll his eyes. He stepped into the room while Joe pressed on in the house. He gripped his knife tightly. He didn’t know how to use it quite as well as he had before the memory loss, at least according to Joe. Still, the weapon was a comfort.

The room he’d gone into looked like it had once belonged to a teenager. The twin bed was covered in a dark blue comforter, the walls were adorned with posters for various sports teams. There was even one of those laundry basketball hoops hanging on the door. Luz walked over to the desk in the room, undoubtedly once used for homework. There were still a few supplies sitting on the desk; Intro to Calculus, 1984 and a messy stack of school papers.

Luz picked up one of the picture frames sitting on the edge of the desk. In it was a teenage boy, a young girl, and two adults. The family who had lived here. George sighed, setting the frame back down. He wondered, not for the first time, where his own family was now. Guiltily, he wondered how many memories he’d made with his family that he no longer remembered. He wondered if he’d ever get them back.

George was about to leave the room when he felt a hand graze his shoulder. He whipped around, coming face to face with an infected. He gasped, scrambling for the knife he’d holstered. The infected took a fast break towards him, arms outstretched and teeth gnashing. The ground left George as the infected tackled him. George used one hand to hold onto the infected’s face away from his body, taking care to avoid the teeth. He adjusted the grip on his knife before he plunged it into the infected’s skull. The body above him went limp and George lay there for a moment, breathing heavily.

“George? George!” Luz heard as Joe came stumbling back into the room. “Oh my God.” Toye rolled the body off of him with a thud, helping George to his feet.

“I’m alright, Joe, I’m alright,” George promised him, but Joe didn’t seem content with that. He pulled at George’s limbs, examining them for any bites or bruises. Joe ran his hands over George’s head, checking for any bumps, before he let his palms rest on George’s cheeks, cradling his face. George stared into his eyes, noting how utterly frightened Joe looked.

“Jesus Christ, George,” He said, before he pulled George, head first, into a hug.

“I’m okay, promise,” George said, though his voice was muffled by Joe’s chest.

“I told you to be fucking careful, George, what were you thinking?” Joe asked and at that George pulled away from the hug.

“Hey,” He said. “I killed it, didn’t I?”

“That’s not the point,” Joe argued. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I’m already hurt,” George pointed out. Though, judging by Joe’s face, this was not the right thing to say. “There’s no such thing as safe, anymore. Stop trying to protect me.”

“I wouldn’t have to protect you if-” Joe cut himself off.

“If what?” George pressed. “Go on.”

“Nothing,” Joe bit out. “Let’s just drop it.”

“Whatever,” George said, and he turned to leave.

“Wait,” Joe said, and George looked to see him staring at the dead walker. “Where did it come from?”

“Way to change the subject,” George said, and Joe shot him a look. “I don’t know. I turned and all of a sudden it was there.” The two of them took a look around the room, before settling on the closet in the corner with the door cracked open. George walked over to it, pulling the door open wide.

In the center of the closet, dangling from the ceiling, was a noose. Or, what had once been a noose. The rope was broken, frayed as if it had been torn. George glanced back at the body, noting the corpse’s mangled neck. Joe whistled.

“That sucks,” Joe said. “Did he live here?”

“Yeah,” George answered, looking at the picture on the desk. “I guess he killed himself when things got bad. Then the rope broke and we just happened to be here.”

“How was he bit?” Joe asked, brow furrowing.

“I don’t think he was,” George said.

“But-” Joe said. “How could he be an infected if he wasn’t bit?”

“Maybe he got infected some other way before he killed himself?” George posited.

“Yeah,” Joe said. “Maybe.”

They found the kid’s parents in the next room over, with identical bullet holes in their foreheads. The young girl was lying in her bed, head surrounded by what had once been fresh blood.

***

Since the family’s bedrooms all had corpses in them, George and Joe were confined to the guest bedroom for the evening. There was only one bed in the room, a small, stuffy looking thing.

“I’ll take the floor,” Joe said, before George had the chance to even offer. He sighed. At their old house they’d each had a room. They’d had protections. Here, they were vulnerable. He climbed into the bed, which felt even stuffier than it looked. It reminded him of a crummy hotel bed. It wasn’t long before he heard Joe snoring on the floor beneath him.

George wasn’t able to go to bed as quickly as his partner. Instead he spent the night the way he’d spent the last few nights; scouring his brain for any memories from the last four years. He tried his hardest to remember anything about Joe.

He wondered what their relationship had been like before. Had Joe always been this protective of him? Was Joe always so serious? How close had they been? He supposed that they must’ve been pretty close if, when he had his memory, he’d decided to ride out the end of the world with Joe. A small part of him wanted that relationship back, even though he didn’t quite know what that relationship was.

It wasn’t that he hated the way things were now. Mostly George hated the way things were for Joe. George didn’t miss the looks Joe sometimes gave him- the sad little glances, as if he expected someone else to be where George was standing. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but George thought that his memory loss was ironically more difficult for Joe than it was for him. In the short time George had been with him, Joe had helped him so much. In truth, George felt guilty that he couldn’t be there for Joe.

With those thoughts swirling around his head where his memories ought to be, George drifted to sleep, lulled by the sound of Joe’s snores.

***

“It shouldn’t be that much farther,” Joe said and George just groaned in response. After they’d woken up (earlier than George thought was really necessary) they’d set out towards the community again. They’d been walking for hours already and if they didn’t reach the community soon George was worried his feet would legitimately fall off. He told Joe that, too, but he just laughed.

Joe was right, though. They soon reached the gate of the community. It surrounded a small section of the city, and it looked to be well fortified.

“Should we knock?” George asked, but before Joe could answer, a figure came out to greet them.

“Hi,” The man said. “My name is Harry, welcome to Company.”

“I’m Joe. This is George,” Joe introduced them. “Is it true you have a doctor here?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Are you hurt?” He looked perplexed.

“Something like that,” Joe said simply.

“Well, you’re free to come in. No weapons, though,” Harry said, eyes glancing towards Joe’s bat. Joe frowned.

“If we were here to hurt you, we would’ve brought more than a baseball bat,” Joe argued.

“It’s not my rule,” Harry said, raising his hands as if to placate them. “But I do have to enforce it.” After a moment, where things were too tense for George’s liking, the two of them handed their weapons over. That seemed to put Harry at ease.

“Well, if neither of you need immediate medical attention, protocol is to meet the leaders first,” Harry explained happily.

“That’s fine,” George cut in, before Joe got a chance to argue again. Harry grinned, and George couldn’t help but feel like he trusted Harry. He followed obediently as he and Joe were led into the community.

Harry took them through several streets, where they passed a few people who all greeted Harry like a friend. They shot George and Joe curious looks, but they didn’t look threatened. George did his best to take in all he could about the community. The city blocks they’d sectioned off were an even mix of housing and business. There were apartment buildings lined on blocks and shops lined on others. The community itself was not incredibly large, but George supposed, with how many people could fit in an apartment building, it didn’t really need to be.

They walked until they came upon a clearing of grass. The area looked like it had been well taken care of, tilled and watered. If George had to guess, it was probably to be used as a farm. There were two men standing on one edge of the small field. One was tall, with dark red hair and muscles that could be seen even under all his clothes. The man next to him was shorter and more lithe, with dark hair and the hint of a smirk.

“Here we are,” Harry said, which effectively alerted the two men to their presence. They turned, facing George and Joe head on.

“_Winters_?” Joe asked.

**Author's Note:**

> When there's one bed and they don't share...
> 
> Man, it's been a while. I wanted to update way, waayyy, earlier than this, but I've been so busy. I figured since I'll be relatively busy for a while, I'll try to make my updates longer, since they won't be as frequent. Still, though, comments really do motivate me and they remind me of why I like to write, so consider dropping one below!!


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